He felt, as he met her and greeted her and looked again into the grave, tender eyes that he had been wanting so badly ever since he had seen them last, that there was nothing more wonderful than the way that their relationship advanced between every meeting.

They met, exchanged a word or two and parted, but in the days that separated them their spirits seemed to leap together, to crowd into lonely hours a communion that bound them more closely than any physical intimacy could do.
"Oh! I'm so glad you've come.

I had hoped it, wanted it." He sat down close to her, his dark eyes on her face.
"You're in trouble?
I can see." She bent her eyes gravely on the fire, and as slowly she tried to put together the things that she wished to say he felt, in her earnest thoughtfulness, a rest, a relief, so wonderful that it was like plunging his body into cool water after a long and arid journey.
"No, it is nothing.

I don't want to make things more overwhelming than they are.

Only, it is, I think, simply that during these last days when mother and Rupert have both been ill, I have been overwhelmed." "Rupert ?" "Yes, we'll come to him in a moment.